


Old Habits Die Hard

by SixteenthFear (Glaerdrune)



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Banter, Bathing/Washing, Canon Compliant, Cis Elias Bouchard, Cis Peter Lukas, Comedy, Crack Treated Seriously, Elias thinks he can hide his feelings by pretending to be annoyed, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Lonely Eyes, M/M, Married Couple, No beta we kayak like Tim, Peter thinks he can hide his feelings by being annoying, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Teasing, The Beholding Fear Entity (The Magnus Archives), The Lonely Fear Entity (The Magnus Archives), and unwilling to admit it, except the porn is in the second chapter so you can just read chapter 1 if you want, just two bastards in love, thats just lonelyeyes innit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-19 09:47:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29748651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glaerdrune/pseuds/SixteenthFear
Summary: Elias' evening off is rudely interrupted when Peter comes home unexpectedly.Canon-typical antagonising ensues, but they can't resist each other for long.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard | Jonah Magnus/Peter Lukas, Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas
Comments: 5
Kudos: 52





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a self-indulgent fluffy/silly PWP I wrote after reading pretty much every LonelyEyes fanfic on AO3.  
> Possibly a little OOC? Idk how I came up with this characterisation I just think it's funny.  
> Anyway I hope you enjoy!

Elias sighed in satisfaction as he stretched out in the bath, glass of wine in hand, and Watched his neighbours argue over which one of them forgot to pay the Council Tax this month. Not a strong source of fear for his patron, but it was dreadfully entertaining.

Things had been going as well as could be expected at the Institute, and after a long and exhausting day of compiling data for his presentation at the next stakeholders' meeting he decided the Archives could run themselves for _one_ evening without the whole place burning down. For all his hard work he was surely allowed the occasional indulgence - though in reality Elias was far too invested in the work itself to bother with these 'self-care days' more than once a decade or so.

Still, he was feeling remarkably unwound from the heat of the water and pleasant burn of the alcohol, greying hair out of its usual impeccable hold and curled slightly by the steam. It was getting a bit long for his liking, a few fine wisps clinging wetly to the nape of his neck; nothing that the right amount of money wouldn't fix, of course. He toyed with a strand between his fingers and made a mental note to book an appointment with his stylist at the earliest opportunity.

Poised to take another sip of the vintage that was older than his current body, he shivered suddenly as an odd premonition prickled at his scalp, running along his arms down to the tips of his fingers. Seconds later the creak of the front door rang out in the silence, before giving way to an almighty racket downstairs.

 _Burglars, I hope._ He didn't want to entertain the thought of his worst-case scenario, not when he'd finally been starting to relax.

The eyes of the bust in the front hall swivelled to focus on the source of the noise, blinked, then widened comically.

"Oh Christ," Elias hissed, slipping down a little and sending a splash of wine up over the side of the tub. The ring on his finger collided with porcelain as he tried to right himself, and the jarring impact crawling up his wrist made him cringe. He could hear the soft thud of heavy boots on old oak now, and a familiar voice called out:

"'Li? Elias?"

Elias closed his eyes and sank all the way into the fragrant water, ignoring his husband in the hopes that maybe he would go away. Unfortunately, Peter's patron afforded him the uncanny ability to sense people in the near vicinity; in all other cases he used this gift to keep as far away from them as possible, but he seemed to turn it on Elias like a heat-seeking missile. 

The fog rolled in first, spreading thin crystals of ice over the walls and blooming on the fogged-up mirror. Then the man himself, striking an imposing figure in the doorway of the bathroom in his overlarge tattered raincoat - and to Elias' chagrin, trailing dirty footprints all over the marble flooring. If it weren't for the classical Lukas complexion Peter could have easily been mistaken for an avatar of the Buried - grimy clothes and mud-caked boots notwithstanding, he had no issue with getting too-close-I-cannot-breathe when he wanted to bother Elias. The sailor was paradoxically clingy coming fresh from a long leave of absence, before he ran out of steam and inevitably fled back to the _Tundra_ to begin the cycle anew.

"There you are, little man. I did wonder why there was no welcome wagon rolled out for me downstairs."

A moment of tense silence passed in the empty space between them. Elias reluctantly lifted his head out of the foam, squinting up at the intruder.

"Go away, Peter, you're turning the bathwater cold."

"Eh, you're beginning to prune anyway. May as well finish up now that I'm here."

"Yes, why exactly _are_ you here?"

"Can't I miss my darling husband, light of my life, the siren to my sea? It's so terribly lonely to be sailing the world, dreaming of the day I can finally come home to you," Peter grinned, watching Elias bristle like a cat in distaste. He enjoyed calling his husband all sorts of ridiculous pet names precisely because Elias hated it so much. The Forsaken paid no mind to spurious affection, especially when it was this effectively weaponised.

Elias rolled his - well, Jonah's - eyes and drained what remained of the glass, setting it aside on the ledge with one last longing look at the empty bottle beside it.

"Come off it," he scoffed, "We both know you can't stand to be away from your little boat for too long. I can hardly get you to shut up about it when you're supposedly doting on your 'darling husband', whoever that might be."

"Well if you're going to be like that, I'll leave you to stew in there in peace." 

"No, no, you've already ruined my plans for a nice, quiet evening." 

Peter looked amused at the concept.

"Thought you would have Seen me coming," he said, "Or has your patron finally grown tired of you?"

"It's my night off," Elias deadpanned, massaging the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger in irritation. Oh well, no use crying over spilt wine. If he didn't give in to Peter's whims eventually the man would just keep at it, and he'd prefer to save himself the trouble tonight. At least, that's what he told himself, furiously wiping blank a small smile as soon as it appeared. 

Standing up out of the water without concern for his nudity, Elias reached over for the plush robe that had been warming on the towel rack beside him and slipped it on over his shoulders. 

"By all means, don't get dressed on my account," Peter said lightly, making an exaggerated show of appreciation at the flesh on display. 

"All the more reason to," he bit back, tying up the sash. _Lech._

Out on the landing, Peter removed his coat and gave it a shake while Elias towelled off. The large man leaned down for a peck on the cheek but Elias pushed his soggy beard away with a frustrated huff. 

"Don't even think about it, you're already dripping seawater all over the rug."

"Aw, don't be like that, love- and after the pains I took to get here. Don't you even want to see what I've brought you?"

"No!" Elias cried, though he knew his plea would fall on deaf ears. Peter was already reaching into the fathomless depths of his corduroy trouser pockets to withdraw... a novelty tie pin shaped like a fish, which he handed to Elias with the utmost reverence.

"Great, thanks," Elias responded flatly, not even looking at it, "Just what I always wanted. Now you don't have to get me anything ever again."

Another one for the collection of ephemera slowly accumulating in his study, including a seashell Peter claimed to have plundered from the ruins of Atlantis, an 'artefact of the Stranger' that turned out to be a completely mundane painting of a sad clown, and the pet rock Elias had been graciously given for their anniversary last year, the kind with a pair of googly eyes haphazardly glued on. _It reminds me of you,_ Peter had risked during that one, and had had to hastily duck as the rock had come whistling through the air back at him. 

Clearly the man hadn't learnt his lesson from that particular divorce or he wouldn't keep bringing his garbage into Elias' home.

"How was the journey back?" Elias asked, hoping to distract Peter so he could throw the horrid thing down the stairs. He wasn't really listening to Peter's answer since most of it would be made up anyway, as if an avatar of the Beholding couldn't tell. Good lord, how his husband loved his tall tales of seafaring adventure. Even for a Lukas, the man seemed to enjoy the sound of his own voice just a bit much. What was he saying now? Something about coconuts?

"...and after all that effort, the poor fellow didn't even notice!"

"Fascinating," Elias said on cue, checking his nails.

"Anyway," Peter segued at last after thoroughly exhausting his melodramatic talents, "You shan't pry any more information out of me, you sly old thing. What excitement have I missed this time ‘round?"

"Oh, blessedly little, actually. One of the library staff got it into their head to stick their nose where it wasn't wanted. Nothing too disruptive, just poking around in my office after hours. I sorted it quickly enough."

"Really?” Peter chuckled, “That’s ironic. What'd you do?"

"Politely asked them to reconsider."

"Surprised you didn't melt 'em with your mind powers." 

The other man waggled his fingers ominously to emphasise his point. Elias scowled at him and he at least had the decency to look sheepish.

"Tch. I can be perfectly civil when I want to be. You're simply not worth the effort."

"How very uncharacteristic of you, Jo. Where's that scheming Magnus spirit of yours? The ruthless body-stealing bastard who stole my heart? I know he's in there somewhere."

"Fine," Elias conceded, allowing a bit of the smug satisfaction he felt underneath the effortlessly cool veneer to creep into his voice. "They may have required further... convincing. Deathly afraid of heights, as it happens, and, _well_ , I haven't done a favour for the Fairchilds in a while. Thought I may as well make lemonade from lemons, so to speak."

"There he is!" Peter boomed in triumph, kissing Elias on the brow over each eye. Elias went bright red at the symbolism of the gesture and squirmed out of his grip indignantly, but Peter chased after him, catching him in his arms again and pinning him against the banister to plant sloppy kisses all over his face. 

"Ugh, Peter, you're _freezing_."

"Kept warm by your love, my little sea cucumber," Peter sing-songed, rubbing his icicle fingers all over his husband.

_"Peter!"_

Despite his efforts, Elias could feel himself softening to the other man's obnoxious attentions, like some kind of neurotoxin that spread through contact. It really had been a while, hadn't it?

"All right, all right, if you must insist on harassing me, can we at least take it somewhere with decent heating? I don't know if you've noticed but I'm not wearing any clothes."

"Of course, beloved, anything for you."

Elias hit him on the arm for that one, and Peter retaliated by scooping him up without warning into a bridal carry - distinctly less dignified when the 'bride' in question is a middle-aged man with no pants on - and steering them both in the direction of the master bedroom. Elias allowed himself the briefest inhale as he tucked his face into the scratchy wool of Peter's jumper, the nostalgic scent of sandalwood musk and sea salt sending a small thrill through him. His cock twitched with Pavlovian interest in response, and he promptly decided to disown it for its heartless betrayal.

Once across the threshold Peter dumped the bundle in his arms unceremoniously onto the bed, sitting down beside him and bending in half to unlace his boots. Elias sat up on his elbows, watching the action lazily through lidded eyes. He found his gaze drawn to those strong, sea-weathered hands... Oh dear. It seemed the wine had all gone to his head. His body was thrumming with pent-up energy, and he was beginning to feel tempted into making a series of bad decisions. 

"Get out of those hideous clothes before they stain the sheets," Elias blurted out before he could stop himself. 

"Get out of that robe," Peter countered immediately, tone light but voice a little rough around the edges.

"Get out of my house," he parried, though there was no real conviction behind it.

Peter straightened up to look at him, resting his hands on his own thighs and lips quirked upwards ever so slightly. 

"Elias this is _my_ house. You just insist on living in it."

"Funny, I distinctly remember you saying 'what's mine is yours' at some point, oh, when was it... Ah yes, your proposal."

"You must be mistaken, love, I definitely said 'what's mine is mine, and what's yours is also mine'."

"Then remind me why on earth I said yes?"

Their faces were inching closer now, pulled by the invisible thread that drew them to each other time and again. This dance was well practiced, the dancers poised in tense anticipation as each waited for the other to make his move.

"You lost the bet."

Peter held that one over him often, even though Elias used the same point just as often to argue that no one would willingly be married to Peter unless they had no other choice. The both of them stayed suspiciously silent on the fact that every subsequent marriage since the first divorce had been entirely voluntary.

"That, and my massive-"

"Oh, shut up," Elias snapped, and kissed him.


	2. Chapter 2

The kiss forced the ice from Peter's veins like a shot of adrenaline.

It was one thing to take a step forward into the distance between them when he knew Elias ( _née_ James, _née_ Jonah) would take a reciprocal step back, maintaining their delicate balance; quite another to be taken by surprise when the other man closed the gap. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence this far into their... alliance, but it still sent him spinning on his axis. His mind went blank for a moment, the comforting chill of the Lonely warring with the burning pit of want that opened up inside him without fail at even the barest hint of Elias' interest.

He'd long since given up on resisting the latter. 

Peter growled low and took Elias' face in his hands to tilt his head back for a deeper kiss. Elias responded by gripping the front of Peter's jumper in a tight fist, leaning on the other arm for balance as he lost himself in the sensation. He would never admit to missing this, but one didn't need to be marked by the Beholding to know it from the way his rigid posture melted in increments, like a slightly out-of-sync gear finally slotting into place. 

Something snapped in the both of them, and the kiss turned frantic. Elias used his leverage to pull himself up onto the other man's lap, eyes flashing, and ground down with his hips. The friction of their mutual erections brushing up against one another yet restricted by so much fabric dragged a ragged sound from his throat, and he swallowed Peter's answering groan as he licked into his mouth and drew his lower lip between his teeth. 

Peter dug his fingers into the flesh of Elias' arse, pressing them closer. Pulse pounding, he broke the kiss to nip at Elias' jawline, then his collarbone, earning a gasp and a tightening of fingers in his hair.

An increasingly animate Elias tugged on his jumper and pulled the hem of his shirt from his trousers impatiently.

"Take it off," the smaller man demanded, pupils blown wide.

Peter eagerly gave in to his command, both shirt and undershirt peeling away in one movement. He was quick to reciprocate, sliding a cool hand under Elias' robe to loosen the sash and caress the taut, smooth skin beneath. Hands roamed over his husband's stomach, thumbs brushing through the light dusting of hair on his chest, and Peter felt Elias tense and quiver under his touch.

"Don't often see you out of a suit," he grunted, running the luxurious Egyptian cotton between his fingers.

Elias snorted in response, throwing him a heated look from under his lashes.

"You see me out of my suits more often than into them."

"You know what I mean." God, how Peter wanted to wipe that arrogant expression off his face. 

Without warning he pulled the robe off Elias' shoulders entirely to curl his tongue over one of his nipples and wrap a fist around his cock. The other man predictably gasped, amusement supplanted by flushed arousal. His hands found Peter's shoulders and his nails dug in, eyes scrunched up in frustrated pleasure and mouth gone slack.

 _There we go_ , Peter thought triumphantly, pumping his hand in swift and twisting movements.

Still straddling him, Elias bit his lip and arched his back, lowering himself until his head and shoulders hit the bed. He opened his eyes to look up at Peter with a calculated smirk, drawing one arm above his head invitingly.

Peter stilled his hand to stare at the lithe body laid out in front of him, breaking a sweat. _Not fair._

Divested of both his robe and his patience and urged on by his husband's inaction, Elias wrapped his legs around Peter's hips and tried to drag the man down on top of him. Aggravatingly, Peter pulled away to stand instead; it took Elias a moment to realise that he had done so to slip out of the last of his clothes, cock springing to attention once freed from the confines of his underwear. 

"I haven't got all night, you know," he protested bitterly from the bed, far from self-conscious at being stared at for so long but not completely immune to the cold that followed the other man like a loyal pet.

Peter's tongue darted out to wet his lips. 

"You certainly won't by the time I'm done with you."

All at once he pounced, hooking one calf up over his shoulder and sucking a bruise into the junction of Elias' neck.

Calloused fingers grasped Elias' thighs sharply as the salt-roughened beard scraped against his bathed-soft skin. Elias arched into the sensation with a shuddering sigh, wrapping his arms around Peter's broad shoulders. With everything to tend to at the Institute it was nice to get out of his head - the one currently belonging to him, anyway - for a little while, and Peter provided a welcome distraction when he was given something useful to do with his mouth.

Pressing a soft kiss to his lips again, the larger man leaned across him to reach into the bedside drawer. Elias heard the click of a bottle cap and drew an anticipatory breath... then Peter was back, grinning that infuriatingly attractive grin of his as the pad of his finger circled Elias' entrance.

"Is this what you want?"

Elias glared at him.

"I'm not hearing a 'yes'."

The glare intensified.

Peter stopped moving.

"All right, I suppose I'll head back to the Tundra for a nice chaste evening in, maybe pick up that book I've been meaning-"

"Yes! Christ!" Elias barked quickly, hitting Peter in the side with his knee, "Get on with it!"

Peter simply shrugged as if it were of no matter to him either way, and pushed in up to the first knuckle.

Already knowing it would not be nearly enough, Elias swallowed down his frustration, pulling a face that he hoped would communicate the depth of his dissatisfaction. His breath stuttered a little with the addition of a second finger, but he appeared otherwise remarkably unruffled until Peter curled those fingers upwards, pressing and rubbing against the spot inside him that elicited a surprised moan.

_Oh, that's more like it._

"Ahh- Mmh, Peter-"

Elias grabbed his chin and pulled him into another kiss, open-mouthed and panting. It was so much harder to satisfy this urge alone. His own slim fingers barely scratched the surface of his pleasure the way Peter's practiced hands could draw it out of him. Perhaps being married to the man was good for something after all.

Still joined by a thin string of saliva, Peter sat up abruptly, fire in his eyes. He withdrew his fingers, manhandling Elias over onto all fours and resuming his preparation with renewed vigour. Adjusting to the sudden change of position, Elias gave his hips an experimental flex and relaxed into the pleasing stretch. 

"I think you can do better than that," goaded the smaller man, laughing haughtily even as he used his newfound range of motion to set the pace. 

Peter muttered something salacious under his breath and added a third finger to the party, palming himself with his other hand to relieve some of the effect of watching Elias take him so readily. Things continued to escalate from there until Elias felt a hot breath ghosting over his hole and _squeaked_ , involuntarily clenching around Peter's knuckles.

"P-Peter don't you dare!"

Too late, because in the next moment Peter was pulling his cheeks apart and licking a long stripe against his entrance in the gap between his fingers, delighting in the way the man shuddered against him. Sex with Elias was always so amusing, watching the man battle against his own pleasure and expect to win, as though disbelieving he could still succumb to such a base instinct. He made a show of scandalised outrage whenever Peter managed to shock him like this, but he never actually wanted to stop when asked.

True to form, Elias' anger turned to red-hot lust coiling heavy in his gut. He collapsed onto his forearms with a lascivious moan that set Peter alight, the cold mist curling around them and settling in their lungs.

Peter plunged his tongue in on another thrust and Elias could _feel_ him smirking into it, the insufferable bastard. Elias, for his part, clamped a hand over his own mouth to block out any more potentially embarrassing sounds. It was too much, he was almost-

"Peter if you d- _hhh-_ don't fuck me right this instant I swear to the Eye I- _oh dear god-_ I'll divorce you again."

Peter chuckled at the half-gasped threat, and the vibration sent a shiver right up Elias' spine. For one brief moment Peter considered denying his husband, making him come with just his fingers and tongue. It would even be worth the divorce papers to feel the man tremble deliciously through a furious, lonely orgasm. Unfortunately his own desires flashed hot at the mental image, and with one last playful bite to Elias' thigh he pulled away to slide a slick hand along his member.

Elias groused quietly at the loss of contact, muscles fluttering around empty air as if that were enough to replace the feeling of fullness he craved. He turned his head to snarl something scathing just as Peter spread him open on his cock, and the words were lost in a warbling keen.

" _Ohhhh..._ "

With the other man so thoroughly prepared Peter bottomed out easily in one long thrust, the thick white curls at the base of his cock pressed tight to Elias' arse. God, it was heavenly. He groaned, throat hoarse as he leant down to mouth wet kisses along the nape of his husband's neck.

"Fuck, Elias, darling you feel so good," he sighed against his skin, grazing his teeth over the shell of an ear. "Wish I could keep you like this forever."

For once, Elias didn't snap back with a witty retort. He was too busy trying not to instantly come, brows knitted together with effort. He could feel beads of sweat running down his thighs and pooling in the backs of his knees, and the bed beneath them was getting sticky with precome. Determined, he gripped the sheets in tight fists and arched his back to grind into the place where they were joined, silently demanding that Peter _move already, damn you!_

Peter let out another low laugh, running his nails along the curve of Elias' spine the way he knew the man liked. Hooking his fingers into the jut of Elias' hip and the flesh of his thigh, he began to thrust. 

They soon lost themselves in the heat and the rhythm of it, obscenities and broken moans filling the space and reverberating off the walls. Elias stifled a high sound with his knuckle, eyes fluttering shut as he eagerly rose to meet each push and pull. Drooling slightly into the pillow, he moved to ease the pressure off his now-aching cock but Peter clicked his tongue and caught his wrist.

"Now now," he chided, breathless with exertion, "Impatient, are we?"

Absolutely devoid of all patience at this point, Elias ground out one syllable at a time, "Peter I will kill you if you don't touch me."

Obliging with no small amount of amusement, Peter pulled him up onto his knees to rest flush against his own chest, a possessive arm wrapped around him to hold him in place while he reached down to take him in hand.

Elias bit down hard on his cheek to keep from crying out at the blessed relief brought on by the sudden friction and the radiating heat of the man behind him.

"That's it, gorgeous, you're doing so well," Peter murmured, pressing his face into the side of Elias' neck with a deep inhale.

"Mmh, fuck you," Elias managed in ardent response. He tipped his head back, threading his fingers into Peter's hair, and captured his mouth in a bruising kiss. Peter kissed back eagerly, snapping his hips at a punishing pace until one particularly slick thrust made both men break the kiss to groan in tandem.

"Fucking _hell_ , Jo..."

"Fuck- Oh fuck oh _fuck_ I-I'm-"

Peter felt Elias start to come in his arms and around his cock as the prickly-static sensation of being Watched sputtered and blinked out of existence for the length of a heartbeat. It was enough to send him over the edge himself, and he sank his teeth into the other man's shoulder to stifle the words that threatened to tumble out during this brief reprieve from consequence. The urge was quickly overtaken by his own orgasm, vision whiting out as he spilled deep inside Elias with his hands drawn tight about his husband's hips.

They both collapsed forwards, panting with expended effort. Peter shifted to the side to keep his weight off the smaller man as the electric thrum in his chest settled back into a familiar heavy warmth. Elias stretched languidly beneath him, toes curling in satisfaction as he let out a breathy laugh. He looked over his shoulder and Peter felt the weight of Beholding come to rest on him once more.

"Oh, you're still here."

"Well you don't need to sound so put out about it."

Peter reached for Elias' discarded bathrobe, wiping sticky fingers on it before passing it to the other man to clean himself up. Elias looked at it for a moment, brow furrowed, then sighed in defeat and complied.

"I'll buy you a new one."

"You'll buy me several new ones."

"I'll buy you several new ones."

"How generous, oh if you insist."

They lay there together in companionable silence, Peter caught up in his own thoughts - which were overwhelmingly preoccupied with how fitting his ring looked on Elias' finger - before Elias finally noticed him staring.

"Don't you need to be getting back to your _boat_ , Captain?"

Peter was in a good enough post-coital mood to take the comment for what it was: a playful jab with no real vitriol in it. Still, it was a wonderfully bereft feeling to be snubbed in the wake of such an intimate moment, but he knew Elias would have said it anyway, mindful of his patron or no. One of the many ways they fit together so nicely, when they weren't trying to tear each other apart.

Loveless marriages were lonely, sure, but there was nothing quite so pleasantly agonising as this.

"I suppose I can stay for a little while," he replied, muffling a yawn. No use wasting good fuel for future loneliness, after all. He didn't bother to lie to himself about whether it would be Elias', or his own.

"Who invited you to?" Elias complained, but he allowed himself to be pulled into a sleepy embrace regardless. He kept the tiny spark of happiness in his black, black heart to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come and yell at me about TMA @brutalpeerreview on Tumblr.


End file.
